


Black And White

by Lust_And_Stardust



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Season/Series 05 AU, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4933501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lust_And_Stardust/pseuds/Lust_And_Stardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something not quite right with Sam, but when he touches Dean he feels more like himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black And White

Peck, Idaho, population 295. It was as far as Dean could drive after leaving Lisa and Ben.

He parks the Impala at the local sleazy motel and secures a room, then finds the local bar and drinks until they refuse to serve him any more. Fortunately, there's a 24-hour liquor store on the way back to the sleazy motel, and _they_ don't care how much he buys. He's already called Sam and told him where he is, stumbling into the motel room, barely getting his boots and jacket off before he gets the first bottle open and starts drinking from it. How could he have been so _stupid_. To have wanted a normal life, with a good woman and a kid that was more like him than not.

Sam is back, but the nasties are still here, dragging him back in to hunt and keep the world safe. Why does it have to be him? His life has been this massive shithole since he was four years old, seeing his mother gutted and burning on the ceiling. He's drunk the whole bottle now and curled on his side, sobbing like that four-year-old, screaming and crying for all the things he's lost and can't have - ever.

Sam finds it necessary to break in. Not break the door down, that's inefficient. Both of the brothers are experienced lock pickers, but this craphole of a motel is way below his pay grade. It only takes a (stolen) credit card to pop it open, and Dean never puts on the chain. Dean is dead drunk, Sam can smell the whiskey and Dean's tears and even his self loathing. Sam's senses are much sharper since he came back. He doesn't quite know why.

Dean is in bad shape, worse than he would have expected. Dean does drink, but this, this is halfway to alcohol poisoning. Sam's going to have to make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit. Dean looks terrible and Sam knows he should feel something at that. He knows he is _supposed_ to. But that just isn't there. Instead, there's the practical situation to be dealt with: making Dean feel better enough to function, and then figure out what to do about him from there. "Dean." Speaking softly, as he knows he would if he could feel the softness. He takes the bottle away - it's empty anyhow. "It's okay Dean." He doesn't believe that, but then he is sure Dean wouldn't either.

Bloodshot eyes blink open, "Sammy?" His vision is fuzzy and it's dark in the room, that's not helping things. He reaches out, though it's more of a fumbling swat than anything else until he connects with a solid arm.

"Yeah. You called me, so I'm here." Sam puts the bottle aside on the nightstand. "You okay? You look like crap." He keeps his voice gentle - this covers a lot of his disconnection a lot of the time, speaking softly and keeping his eyes wide.

Grabbing tightly to Sam's sleeve, "I had to leave her, Sammy... keep her safe." He's crying again, big fat tears he didn't think he could still have in him, and it hurts so bad deep in his chest. "I just wanted to be normal... to have someone to love..."

"It's okay, Dean." This is nothing but a lie, and yet it's what he would have said anyway if he could feel it. "You're gonna be okay." He's touching Dean's hair. Dean is crying a lot. Sam tries to remember what it felt like to do that. He can remember what it was like physically, but that's it.

Dean shuffles and pulls his way to Sam, pressing his face into Sam's shoulder and holding tight to him. "No it's not. Not ever."

"No, I guess not." Sam would hold him, so Sam holds him. There is something physically satisfying about doing this. He has no idea if it does anything for Dean, though.

Dean practically falls into Sam's lap, wrapping his arms around him. "Why'd it have to be us, Sammy? Why couldn't we just be normal?"

"I remember asking you that, years ago. You said, 'I don't know'. Sorry, I don't either." But really, a lot of what's wrong with them, they chose for themselves. Dean could have just let Sam die, and gone on with his life then. And neither of them would ever have gone to Hell. Sam was not there long, but it obviously affected him. And neither of them were ever going to be normal.

Dean holds tight to him. "Make it better, Sammy, you always make it better."

Sam is doing everything he can think of that's 'comforting'. But Dean's closeness gives him an idea. He's comforted a girl or two in bed. And Sam has always been (it's so _easy_ now to think _clearly_ about this) sexually attracted to Dean, and it's kind of obvious that it's more than a little mutual. Why not? It might even make Dean happy, and then Dean wouldn't question his existence and what exactly is wrong with Sam. He kisses Dean's temple, and when Dean turns his head, softly kisses his mouth. He tastes like whiskey and salt. But his lips are soft.

Moaning into the gentle kiss, Dean clings onto it like a lifeline. He presses into Sam, into the kiss, hands trying to grip at him everywhere.

Dean responds beautifully, as if this had been their plan all along. Sam wonders why he never thought of this before. In fact, Dean seems to _need_ this. Sam's hands work their way into Dean's clothes to touch his skin. Physical things, Sam can feel just fine. He'll take that.

Dean scrabbles at Sam's shirt, wanting to touch his skin, his mouth clashing with his now. His tongue is licking against Sam's, and it feels so _good_ , fills the empty place deep inside him.

Sam strips out of his clothes, confident now that this is the right thing. And it feels _good_. It feels sharp and intense, different from any sex he's had since he came back, and he's had a lot. He tried it with a few men, though he generally found women's expectations easier to manage. Dean is a different matter entirely. He needs to _keep_ Dean. There may be logical reasons to do things on his own, but he would prefer very strongly to keep Dean. He gets Dean's shirts off and gets to know the taste of his skin.

Dean's dropped onto the mattress, his head heavy from the booze and now from the surges running through his body. This is Sam, HIS Sammy, doing this. Kissing and touching, and he wishes to Anyone that he wasn't so drunk, so he could participate more.

Sam unbuttons and unzips Dean's jeans, drags them and his underwear down off his legs. If Dean were less intoxicated, Sam might take longer about this, but it's a nicety that would be lost on him. And he really wants it now, to taste Dean's beautiful cock. He bends his dark head down over Dean and takes it into his mouth.

"OH GOD, SAMMY!" That hot mouth around him, it's almost too much right then.

Sam uses his mouth to give as much pleasure as it can. Which is kind of a lot. And it's fun to take it slow and treat Dean almost as a kind of musical instrument, where you suck on one part and another part sings. He's drunk, of course, so again, subtleties would be wasted on Dean. And yet, Sam does those things anyway. Sex is a good thing to be good at.

Clawing at the bed covers, "Yeah... Sammy... so fucking good..." His body feels like never before. Even through the amount of booze he's had he can still feel the fire in his veins. The pulsing in his cock intensifies, and he's too addled to warn Sam when he blows.

Sam is not surprised when Dean comes in his mouth. Dean couldn't warn him in words, but his breathing and his cock gave plenty of notice. He didn't swallow for the other men he's been with, but he's trying to keep Dean. He swallows it and chases more with his tongue, though it's bitter. Dean is at least half passed out. That's okay. Sam can enjoy him while he's asleep if he has to.

Body going lax, Dean murmurs,"Sammy... wow... s'good." He's nearly out, hand flopping toward Sam, reaching for him. He wants his little brother up close against him, Sam was always like a living furnace.

Sam climbs up to settle behind Dean, spooning. He's hard as a marble rolling pin, and his cock settles happily between Dean's cheeks, that feels _fantastic. Dean_ feels fantastic. Sam bites gently at the back of Dean's neck, rocking a little. He's leaking precum and it makes Dean's skin slick where he's rubbing.

"Mmmm... s'nice." Dean rocks back a couple of times before the alcohol and sexual release overwhelm him and send his lights out.

Sam grips Dean's hip and ruts hard against him, panting. It feels good, Dean's body, his skin, his heat... but somehow... Dean's being asleep makes it a little less intense. He's not sure why. He has to grip harder, rut harder to feel it, and when he starts to come he bites Dean's shoulder. His hand and his mouth both leave dark bruises later.

Hours later, Dean wakes tucked into the bed, naked and sore. Reaching up he touches the back of his shoulder and neck, coming away with sticky blood on his fingers. "What the _hell?"_  Just then his stomach rebels and sends him sprinting for the  bathroom, body ejecting alcohol and bile until it's just dry heaves. "Sam??"

Sam comes in with coffee and donuts. He would have been back sooner, but he had eaten and drunk his own and been almost all the way back when it occurred to him that he ought to get some for Dean - that it might speed recovery. So he went back for more and now he is back, Dean is up and busy vomiting. "I'm here." He hesitates. The Sam he used to be would ask, 'are you okay.'  He clears his throat. "Are you okay?"

Voice husky and raw, "What do you think?" Dean gets shakily to his feet using the sink as a kind of hoist and brace. Looking in the mirror makes him wince. He must have _really_ tied one on last night to look _this_ bad. He twists to look at the wound on his shoulder, catching sight of the bruises on his hips. "Fuck me." His mind spins out of control, he had a dude in here last night? SAM. SHIT SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! Grabbing a towel to wrap around his hips, he bursts back into the bedroom and looks around in a panic. But, no dude?

Sam looks at him in his towel, lifts an eyebrow. Then he catches sight of the wound on Dean's shoulder. Old Sam would blush to see it, but old Sam wouldn't have done it. "Didn't mean to bite that hard." It's not an apology really. But it is a fact.

His eyes flash from the bed to Sam and back again and again. "Wait... YOU didn't mean to bite... me??" OH GOD! Did they... together... last night?!?

"You don't remember," Sam says, then shrugs. "Well you were into it when you were drunk, anyway. I did mean to bite you. Just not that hard."

"So wait... you and me... we... had SEX?" That was _not_ his voice that rose about a gazillion octaves. This is _so not good,_ they're both going to Hell now.

"Yeah," says Sam. "What's the big deal? I've always wanted to. _I'll_ admit it."

Dean drops like a stone to sit on the side of the bed. "I... we... you did?" He sounds completely stupid, but he's still trying to process that he and Sam _had sex,_ and Sam _wanted it._

"Yeah," says Sam. At least Dean isn't reacting with homophobia. Yet. "I know it's supposed to be... a bad thing? But that's how it is. It's too bad you don't remember because it was good. You said it was. You came in my mouth. I wanted you to."

Green eyes look up at him, "You did?" _Wow_. Dean bites his lower lip. "I... um... don't suppose you'd wanna try again? Now that I'm sober?" His heart is beating hard enough to leap out of his chest.

Sam smiles. "Hell yeah. I'd like it with you a little less shit-faced. But maybe a little more showered?" He tosses over the bag of donuts. "Got some coffee too."

Dean is blushing. "'Kay... um, food, coffee, shower. Check." His heart is still trip hammering, he's really gonna do this. Sex. With. _Sam_.

"You don't have to freak out or anything," Sam says, in his 'gentle' voice. "Or if you do just - don't bug out on me, okay? Don't leave. Nothing has to happen that you don't want." Or can't handle.

"Okay, I _am_ freaking out a little, because... it's just... wow. Not leaving though, promise." He gets up to grab the coffee and donuts.

"Okay." Sam keeps himself looking calm and as nonthreatening as he can. He's actually sort of used to doing this. A man his size has to learn not to loom over people when they might have a problem with that. He sits down on a chair. But he can't help watching Dean, in his towel. Oh, he bruised Dean's hip too. He can see the marks of his own fingers.

After downing half the bag and all of the coffee, Dean mutters,"I guess... I'll shower."

Sam is opening his laptop. He looks up at Dean. Smiles. "Be sure to scrub your back, I came on it."

Dean twists and turns to try and look at his back, "Oh EWW dude!"

Sam laughs. "I don't know where you wanted me to put it. You passed out and left me hanging, so." A little shrug. "I was pretty sure you'd want to be awake for me fucking you."

Dean blushes to his roots, "Uhhhh... yeah... um... I'm just gonna wash up now..." He all but _runs_ into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. It takes him a few minutes to get into the shower and clean up. He brushes his teeth twice and gargles, he doesn't want his breath to stink. Swallowing and gathering his courage, he opens the door and steps out naked.

Sam looks up a few things on his laptop while Dean is in the shower. He grins to himself when he hears Dean brush his teeth twice. Very thoughtful. And then he comes out without a towel. Sam leans back in his chair and gives Dean the once-over. "Nice, Dean." Tilting his head, "Turn around." He's not sure if Dean will do it.

Sam seems just a little bit _sleazy_ when he says that, and it just turns Dean on. He lifts his arms a bit away from his body, turning slowly for him. "What else do you want me to do?"

Oooh. He _did_ it. _And_ he liked it. Sam learns a lot about his brother in that one little moment. "Come over here," he says, "and show me your cock."

Dean pads barefoot over to him, reaching down and taking hold of himself, stroking slowly. "Like this?" Rubbing his thumb over the tip and smearing the fluid there.

"Yeah. That's good." Sam licks his lips. He reaches down and palms his own swelling cock through his jeans. "You're gorgeous, Dean. Every inch of you says 'fuck me'."

"Then why don't you come do something about it?" Dean backs up until he hits the bed, crabbing upward toward the headboard, letting his legs splay wide open. He grabs a pillow to shove behind his back, his free hand grabbing himself again and stroking, slowly.

Sam gets up and slowly takes off his shirt. His eyes move to rove over Dean's body and then up to his eyes. Then he takes off the rest of his clothes before finally sauntering over to put one knee on the bed. He wraps his big hand around his big cock and smiles down at Dean.

Dean watches every move he makes. "Do you want me to put my mouth on it?" Licking his lips slowly, his eyes pools of liquid heat.

"Yeah, I think that sounds like a good plan. Stay there and I'll bring it to you," climbing up to straddle Dean's chest.

OH HOLY CRAP! Sam's body is chiseled like marble, and that _cock_ that is now hovering close to his lips is _huge_. Licking his lips, Dean looks up at Sam and opens his mouth for him.

"That's right." Sam leans against the headboard with one hand and with the other, guides the head of his cock between Dean's lips. "That's _good_." Pushing in - halfway. And staying there. Not deep enough to make him gag, but enough to fill his mouth up completely. "Is this the first cock you ever had in your mouth, Dean?" - knowing he can't talk to answer properly.

Dean blushes and gives the smallest shake of his head, tongue rubbing up against the underside of Sam's fat cock. Setting his hands on Sam's hips, he strokes in small circles, then slides backward to grab his ass, pulling Sam forward a bit to fuck his mouth.

"That's a story I'm gonna wanna hear," Sam pants, thrusting in. "But I'm not surprised" - this is an outright lie, he _is_ surprised, but he's become _so good_ at lying - "because your mouth was _made_ for sucking cock."

Dean whimpers around him, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, lashes fluttering as his mouth is fucked. Jaw stretched wide, he has a heck of a time being sure to guard his teeth.

"Good, Dean," Sam murmurs. "You've needed this. Me too." He pulls out to rub against Dean's lips. "Where should I come? In your mouth or in your ass? You choose."

Dean licks at him, "Up my ass." There's a flinty challenge in his eyes, he is going to make Sam work for it.

"I'm so glad you said that," tapping it against Dean's tongue before moving back. He's got lube in his bag, he gets it and tosses it on the bed. "Get ready."

Dean picks up the tube and, slicking his fingers, pushes two deep inside himself with a bit of a wince. It's been a while since he had a male lover, most of the time he topped, but not always. Meeting Sam's eyes, "Have you had a guy before?"

"Yes," Sam answers without a trace of embarrassment. If he weren't so excited, he'd remember to simulate a little bit of ' _bashful_ '. "Thought about you every time." He leans down to watch Dean's fingers, one hand idly toying with his own cock.

"Yeah? Did you pick guys that looked like me?" He picked younger guys but they weren't anything like Sam, they had an air of innocence, but he didn't dare have them anywhere close to Sam's physical size. He wanted to live through the encounter, many of the big ones wanted to get rough.

"Tough guys," Sam acknowledges. "Couldn't find anybody as handsome as you though." None of them were anything at all like Dean. Not really. He reaches out to stroke Dean's cock with his free hand. "And you?"

"Ohhhhhhh." Sam's big hand feels so good on him, "None of them were really close to you at all, young and innocent looking... "

 _Looking_ being the operative word. Sam has had Lucifer inside him, and _innocence_ feels like an alternate universe. But he doesn't say any of that. "Are you ready, Dean," his voice low. "We can both get what we want."

Pulling his fingers free, Dean nods. "Yeah... how do you want me?" He hands Sam the tube of lube, ready to move on his say so.

"Hands and knees." That happens to be easier on the recipient, at least to start. But it's also more the style Dean seems to crave. Sam spreads lube on his cock. A lot of lube. Sam can go a long time. Hand on the small of Dean's back (as it happens, where he came last night) he says, "Tell me you're ready."

Dean braces himself. "Take me Sammy, I want all of you inside me." He tingles everywhere Sam touches him, his cock dripping beads of precum on the bed.

Sam looks down and watches as the head of his cock pushes into Dean's hole, stretching it open. His other hand, still on the small of Dean's back, braces him as the full head pops in past that ring of muscle. The hardest part to get used to, as wide as he has to stretch. SO hot in there, almost burning the tip of his cock, and _so tight_ around him. He knows to wait, but instead of saying gentle things this Sam says, "Open up and let my cock in, Dean. That's right. Let it in and I'll fuck you so full."

Moaning with the stretch and burn of it, Dean drops his shoulders down on the bed, ass up in the air for Sam's pleasure. He takes deep shuddering breaths, willing his insides to relax and accept Sam inside. So full, so full he must be near bursting, it feels like Sam's cock is gonna come out of his chest at this point.

Sam reaches around with the hand that's still shiny with lube and wraps it around Dean's cock. Leaning forward to do this pushes him in another couple of inches. He enfolds Dean's cock, stroking smoothly. His hand on Dean's back strokes up and down the curved line of Dean's spine. And then he's all the way inside, engulfed in fire. All the way inside Dean's body. There's a warmth all over Sam, from the inside out. It's strange. It's _good_.

Dean can't stop the whimpers and sounds coming from his mouth as his cock is stroked just as his insides are. He moves forward then pushes back on Sam, taking him deep, and he is so damn _massive!_ He's ruined for anyone else, male or female, now.

"Ah, _God_ , Dean..." Sam drapes his upper body over Dean's back, pressing against him, and slowly rocks his hips, still stroking Dean's cock. He's trembling... There's something... There's - _The emptiness at the heart of Sam is pressed against the warm light inside Dean and he is inside Dean and they are intertwined._ Sam _feels_. He feels the difference. He _feels_ Dean and _loves_ him. Touching Dean's soul, he _feels_ with it, resonating. "Dean." It feels _incredible_.

"Sammy..." Dean is wrapped up by his brother, Sam's larger body covering his, protecting and loving him in a way he's craved since he was little. He shifts enough to free a hand and wiggle it under Sam's, letting their fingers interlock. Tears spring into his eyes when Sam kisses the back of his neck and the side of his head, saying his name over and over like a mantra.

Sam moves on him, in him, now Dean's body is completely open to him, letting Sam fill him and pushing back for more. Dean's soul is part of his body and it, too, lets Sam in. "You're perfect," he tells Dean. "You're mine. Always loved you. Always will." He's moving faster now, the need to join ongoing and urgent, and the pleasure he can _feel_ he gives Dean is like a drug as he shares it.

Dean turns his head, "Kiss me Sammy... please." It's _so much_ in his body, in his heart, feeling connected in a way that he's never felt with anyone else.

Sam tries to obey, but it's so hard to kiss properly from behind. "Turn over," he whispers hoarsely, pulling out for a second so Dean can twist over onto his back. Then he's back inside and kissing Dean, thrusting luxuriously and tasting Dean's feelings through his mouth. - Which is odd. But marvelous.

Dean feasts on his mouth, hands tangled in Sam's hair as he scrambles to keep his legs up around those lean hips. Each thrust nails his prostate, making him see stars, "Close Sammy... close..."

"Yeah." Sam finds the angle that makes Dean see stars, and _shows_ him stars. It's time to give in to it, to go over with it, the pleasure that's built between them. It's powerful and perfect and while he's joined like this with Dean, Sam feels as completely as though he still had his soul. He comes, sobbing into Dean's mouth, pulsing deep inside him.

Dean kisses back, hands cupping Sam's face as they spiral up and down in pleasure. He keeps his legs around him, refusing to let Sam pull away and retreat from him, to keep this closeness, this feeling of wholeness. Unable to keep kissing, having to pant for air, "Sammy... Sammy... I love you.. so much," pressing kisses over his face.

"Love you, Dean." And for these few minutes, it seems like everything is all right - more than all right. They're back together, and they're _more_ together. Sam feels like _himself_ again. He hadn't realized how far from it he'd been until he felt like himself. He should feel horrified at this chance he took, initiating this with Dean, if Dean had rejected him it would be the end of the world! But the results are so wonderful. How can he regret it?

This illusion of normalcy lasts only as long as he's still inside Dean. When finally they have to separate, he feels as though cold water has rushed in around his head.

Dean isn't a cuddler, but he can't let go of Sam, keeping him close, stroking his back and hair. Pressing kisses to his hair and forehead, "You're so brave, Sammy. I don't think I'd ever have so much as kissed you. If you left... it would kill me, because I know you'd never come back."

"It was a risk," Sam admits. He's - uncomfortable. He just _had_ something and it's - _gone_ again. He was fine with it when there was nothing to compare it to. He even _liked_ it, liked being able to think coldly. But just now. With Dean. That had been - that was - He doesn't understand it. He doesn't know what's wrong with him. But now he knows there is something. "Dean... I think there's something wrong with me. In my mind. Or something. I'm not right. I'm me, but I'm not - _right_."

This freezes Dean solid. "What are you saying?" Was he just talking about them now being lovers as well as brothers? Or was this to do with they way he was acting. Dean was different when he came back from Hell, too.

"Since I've been back I've been - _different_. I didn't know it - or I did and I thought it was good, that I was better. I could think so clearly and I didn't care about the things that always used to hold me back from being as good a hunter as you. And it made total sense to me to let you think I was still in the Pit when I've been out almost the whole time." He turns toward Dean - who looks pale. "Just now inside you, I was _me_. The me I remember, the me you love. I felt everything. But now it's gone again."

Dean strokes the side of his face tenderly. "Sammy... I'm always gonna love you, and you're just as good a hunter as me." Looking him in the eyes, "We'll figure this out. You know I was different when I came back too. But if you say you don't feel right... I'm gonna take your word for it. We'll call Bobby later, okay?"

"Okay," Sam replies, relieved that Dean is at least trying to take him seriously. "I think... We saw how it happens, what happens to angel vessels afterward. They're damaged." Shrugging, "At least I'm functional."

Dean wraps his arms tightly around him, "We'll call Cas too, maybe he can fix whatever is wrong." The thought of Sam ending up like Raphael's vessel terrifies him.

Sam holds him, his hand on the back of Dean's head, fingers moving slightly through his hair. "Does seem more like a job for Cas." And unlike Bobby, Castiel would be brutally direct with the truth, no matter how bad. That's for the best, Sam thinks logically.

"Maybe we should call him first? But uh... after a shower?"

"Yeah. Good idea." After a pause, "You can go first."

Dean strokes his back, "We could go together? If you want?"

"Oh," because it simply hadn't occurred to Sam. It would save time. And Dean would probably like it. "Yes. Okay." He does like the idea of being naked together in close proximity. He can feel sexual desire just fine. Just not any of the rest of it.

Grinning, Dean squirms out from under him and takes his hand, "Come on, sexy, let's go play with the shampoo."

Sam gives a little smile in return without really planning to, as they get up and get into the shower. It seems to be sort of muscle memory - in response to seeing Dean smile. Sam is more attuned to noticing this now: the ways in which he still acts a little like his old self with Dean, when he wouldn't bother at all with any other person.

Dean turns on the water and gets it set to the right temperature before stepping in and taking Sam's hand to pull him in close. He has to push up on his tip toes to be closer to eye to eye."You're too tall, c'mere." A hand on the back of his neck urges Sam down so they can kiss with the warm spray hitting their bodies.

Kissing is good. There's a warmth to it suggestive of the connection of earlier, and Sam pursues it as much as possible. Dean's mouth has been a temptation for many years and it's now freely available. Touching Dean also feels a little better than just touching someone attractive ought to. These thoughts are so clinical. He just can't stop trying to make sense of everything.

Cupping his face and looking in his eyes, Dean says firmly,"Stop _thinking_ so much. You, always with the brain." Kissing him again, he reaches for the  soap to lather his hands and run them over Sam's big chiseled chest.

Sam can't help it - if he stopped thinking, he would have nowhere to go. But there's no point in arguing with Dean about it, and they're kissing again. Dean's hands running over his skin send shivers down Sam's back. It's good. They fit together so easily. And Dean's mouth is hot and sweet.

Dean takes full advantage of slippery hands to touch every inch of Sam, finally dragging a sudsy hand between his legs. Biting his lower lip lightly, "Such a big boy... made me feel so good."

"You can have it anytime," thrusting into Dean's hand. "Wanted you for so fucking long." His hand wanders down Dean's back to possessively cup his ass.

Dean tightens his grip, "Anytime you want, Sammy, all yours." He steps back and lets the water sluice between them, "But there's one thing I want first." He drops to his knees to take that big cock in his mouth.

" _Yeah_ , Dean." Dean actively sucking his cock is _amazing_ , he's hungry for it, and looking down at him is a truly and utterly sexy sight, a mental picture worth keeping. Sam puts his hand on Dean's head, "Fuck yeah. Suck it. You're so fucking good."

Dean's fingers cup his balls, giving a little tug and twist as he sucks, bobbing his head, carefully using a bit of teeth and then taking him as deep as he can.

"Yeah. _Yeah_ Dean... You want me to come down your throat, you do it just like that."

Dean looks up at him, then blinks slowly once to acknowledge his assent. His thumbs gently rub the soft sack in his hand, feeling it tighten as Sam gets closer.

" _Dean_." Sam is breathless, thrusting forward instinctively. Dean's mouth is wrapped around him, and there are distant glimmers of feeling - _something_. And hot tight pleasure, on the surface, working his cock. "My Dean." It feels weird to say it and yet it's true, isn't it? He said it before... "You're gonna make me come. _Dean!"_

Swallowing all of him down, Dean sits back in his heels to grin up at Sam, who's sagged back against the wall. He lets his hands stroke up and down the outside of his thighs, head tipped back to gather water in his mouth and spit it out, another mouthful he swallows. "You are damn sexy when you do that."

"Do what? come in your mouth?" giving a sleepy half grin down at Dean. "You're really damn good at that, Dean." He'd said, or at least signed, that Sam's wasn't the first in his mouth. "When's the first time you did it."

Dean stands slowly, feeling his knees pop from the abuse of the tile. "Fourteen... out in back of one of the schools we were in, football captain on a dare. Got 200 bucks out of that one."

"Sounds more like a transaction than a dare," says Sam. "That's an expensive blowjob." He's never paid for one a la carte, but it sounds expensive.

Dean shrugs. "I was a dumb, cocky kid. We were out there smoking a joint and talking smack about girls, the other guys started saying that a guy could give a better blowjob than a girl any day. 'Cause they know the way it should feel. One thing led to another, and someone threw down the dare, so I did it. Simple as that. I never was the brightest bulb in the factory."

Sam runs his hand down Dean's chest to fondle his cock. "Did you like it?" The very _thought_ of Dean getting stoned. Sucking at a joint, his pupils dilating, licking his pretty lips because his mouth is dry. 

"Enough to try it again in a couple of years." He spreads his legs to give Sam all the access he wants. "Did it with a few girls by then, and then for my twenty-first, I snuck out, found the nearest gay bar and got myself screwed six ways from Sunday. Was pretty good. What about you?"

"Sucked my first cock six months ago. I needed information, and the guy I needed it from thought I was pretty." Stroking slowly, "I've had some men since then. I wanted to try. Women weren't satisfying me. The men didn't either. I'd come, but I can do that myself."

Dean reaches up to gently cup his cheek, "Aww Sammy, I would have wanted something better for you, always did." He swallows and looks away in shame. "I know I always gave you hell for leaving us... but... a lot of me was jealous that you were going to go out and live your life,  be normal."

"I know. You were jealous, and you were hurt." He talks about it like it was someone else, still stroking. "It was Dad I wanted away from so bad. Not you."

Dean nods. "I know. Just wish I'd had the guts to go too."

"There was never gonna be 'normal' for either of us." None of the friends he'd thought he had were real. He had been surrounded by demons. Getting him ready for Lucifer. "Let's go back to bed."

"Twist my arm." Dean pushes forward into him, kissing hungrily as he grips at Sam.

Rinsed of soap, they turn the shower off and stumble half-toweled back into the bedroom. There's a fresh bed that hasn't been fucked in yet. They pull the cover off of it. Sam lies back and says, "Haven't let anybody fuck me. Do you want to?"

Dean has to grab himself hard at the base to keep from coming just at the suggestion. "Oh _hell yeah!"_ But he's not gonna just rut with Sam, not his first time. "Um... give me just a minute." Jumping back into the bathroom, he jerks at himself hard and fast, coming with a gasp into his hand. Feeling the edge drain off, now he can take his time with Sam. Dean rinses off his hand and takes a few deep breaths before stepping back out into the bedroom.

Sam is pushed up on one elbow, looking at Dean as he comes out of the bathroom. "I would've liked to see that. Next time you jerk off, let me watch."

Dean blushes, "Oh... sorry. I... just wanted to take the edge off enough. And you're so damn hot just sprawled all over the bed like that." Licking his lips, "There's just _acres_ of you." He sets a knee on the bed and leans toward Sam, sealing their mouths together, tipping his head to the side to make it deeper still.

Sam kisses back, savoring Dean's taste and heat. Dean's kissing is only a little less urgent than before he came - it's just his style, Sam is learning. The thought of Dean fucking him is glowing in him like a pilot light. The things he experienced when fucking Dean. Will it happen the other way? Will it be different?

Dean gently pushes Sam back into the bed, kneeling over his waist, then sitting slightly on Sam's abs. Breaking their kissing, he sits more of his weight on Sam, but not too much, running his hands over his shoulders and pecs. "God you're solid... you were starting to get big when you left for college... then when we met up again ... when Dad went missing... you just got so huge. Every man's wet dream you are. So big and firm," fingers gently pulling and stroking Sam's nipples before he leans down to lay gentle kisses over his throat.

"I remember the look on your face when you first had to look up at me." How powerful it had felt, his big brother having to look up at him. Dean had looked uncomfortable. He _might_ have been a little turned on. The gentle touches feel good - but they are not what Sam has been used to since he came back. He is restless underneath them - eager for more, but Dean deliberately slows himself down to draw it out.

"Yeah. You're intimidating as hell, I didn't know whether to run or go weak in the knees." He licks his way down to a nipple, being tender and slow to ease it into a peak, moving to the other where he nips it a bit firmly.

Sam gasps and starts to squirm. His cock is hard of course, leaking precum onto his belly. Before this year, he had tried hard not to be intimidating, anxious about his size and just trying to ignore the constant stream of jokes - not just from Dean. This year he's owned it. He's even enjoyed just being scary at random people and thought, 'where's the tall jokes now?' Of course, everybody is the same height when they're lying down. "Dean." Breathless. "More."

Carefully Dean applies a bit to teeth over those super defined pecs. "Do you like it harder?"

"Yes," then, "No," then "Maybe." His hand is on Dean's head, fingers moving through the short soft spikes of his hair at the back where it's shortest.

Dean licks and kisses a spot he was a bit rough with, "Gotcha," nibbling down his abs, reaching over and grabbing Sam's hand to then gently nuzzle his elbow and down to his wrist. Very gently he kisses and nibbles on his pulse point, licking down into his palm before taking two fingers in his mouth and tonguing them obscenely.

" _Dean_."  It's like he can feel Dean's mouth on his cock, like his fingers and his cock are intimately connected, and yet of course _nothing_ is touching his cock and he groans in frustration. Dean is _tormenting_ him. Sam is definitely being tormented. It's shorting out the electricity in his brain.

Dean licks back down his palm and just drags his lips whisper-soft over the tender skin at Sam's wrist, then up the inside of his arm to his elbow again. Then, a sharp nip to the bulge of his bicep before turning his head for a deep, slick kiss.

Sam kisses with desperate hunger. What Dean is doing is like a drug, giving him tiny little tastes of the rush of feeling he hopes to get having Dean inside him.

Dean wants to take it slow but he's only human. He reaches down and fondles Sam, nothing too much.  Breaking the kiss again, he bites his lower lip firmly before licking the underside of his upper lip. "What do you want Sammy... talk to me," tenderly nuzzling his neck and the shell of his ear.

"Want you fucking me." His voice is slow, it really is like a drug. "Want you _in_ me, I want to feel - " He doesn't know what to call it. "Want to feel you. Like before. It makes me - _me_."

Dean grins at him. "Then I suppose you should turn over lover, let me get you ready?" He moves to let him up.

Sam slowly turns himself over, giving himself up to Dean. He looks back over his shoulder. "Like this?"

"Oh fuck you've got a sweet ass." Dean places his hands on each side, kneading and rubbing, getting glimpses of that tight little hole hidden between them. Pausing to grab a pillow and tug on a hip, "Up... I'm gonna get my tongue in there, wet you up real good."

"Oh fuck _yes_." Sam moves as Dean wants him, already shivering before he's even touched. Arches his back. Spreads his legs. "Fuck yes. _Please_."

Grinning at him, kneading those firm cheeks, Dean says,"You like that, huh? The idea of me licking you out... wiggling my tongue up in you," letting his thumbs nudge and rub at that tight little opening as he spreads Sam's ass cheeks open.

His cock jerks, dribbling a fat bead of precum that runs all the way down the shaft. "Do it, Dean. Lick me." Spreading his legs even wider, "Please!"

"Oh yeah." Dean lies flat on the bed so he can get his face right in there, stabbing his tongue _right there_ , then licking up between his cheeks and back down. The way it makes Sam squirm and rock on the bed is amazing, powerful. Getting down to business, he swirls his tongue around the tight little ring, thumbs rubbing and easing the muscle open so he can push inside. Just a little ways each time, but gradually Sam's body relaxes and lets him in deeper.

Sam's gasps turn to deep, long moans, Dean has total control of his whole body just from this. "Deannn," moaning. "So good..." It is extremely vulnerable - which is why he hasn't done any of this with the men he's tried. He wouldn't have done it _to_ them either - not this. Not what Dean is doing.

Dean gets his tongue as far as he can, teeth pressing into tender skin to do so. He has to stop, though; his jaw aches from the position. Instead, he grabs the lube and slicks up his fingers, pushing two slowly inside as far as Sam's tight little ass will let him. "Too much?"

"Don't stop," Sam is begging, and hearing himself beg, and not caring. "It's good, so good, don't stop," pushing back hungrily onto Dean's fingers.

"Yeah, that's it greedy boy, take my fingers up your ass. I can feel you grabbin' at them. It's gonna be better, soon it's gonna be my dick at the back of your throat it's gonna be so far up in you." Dean kind of likes talking dirty to Sam, it seems to make him hotter. He's careful though, adding more lube with a third finger.

It's only a minute before Sam is pushing back onto three fingers as much as he did two. _"Dean!"_ Agonized now. "Stop torturing me and fuck me. _Fuck me!"_ He looks back over his shoulder, wild eyed through a mess of dark shaggy hair.

Dean nods, "Okay baby, I'm coming." Taking his hand away, he slicks his cock up really well, he doesn't want to hurt Sam at all. "How do you want it?"

Sam rears up and turns on Dean, shoving him down onto his back and climbing on top of him. "Like this." Then _he'll_ be in control of it, and Dean can't hold back anymore. He reaches down and grabs Dean's cock to position it and sinks down. Not all the way quickly like he was thinking, though - Dean is _big_. Smoother than his fingers, but fucking _huge_.

Dean's eyes roll back into his head at the hot tight feel of Sam around him, of being shoved around like a rag doll and still knowing he's safe - such a fucking thrill! They definitely have to try some kinky stuff. After a minute he braces his feet on the bed to better thrust up into Sam, grabbing a pillow and shoving it under his head and shoulders to better watch, "Oh yeah, ride me lover. Wanna see you fuck yourself on my big cock."

Sam takes a deep breath and exhales, sinking down onto it, feeling it up in him, making room inside him. As his muscles relax it becomes pleasure, like from Dean's tongue or his fingers. But _bigger_. The sensation of being _filled_ is like nothing else. And with it he feels - _Dean_. Not his cock (which he most assuredly feels every inch of) but Dean himself, the actual Dean inside Dean's body. Sam is _so empty_ and Dean is _here_ , inside him. He lifts up and sinks down again, driving Dean in deep, throwing his head back and moaning. "Oh _God_ Dean!"

"Let me look at you... so damn sexy. We gotta get a room with mirrors, I wanna see you from every angle, better than Da Vinci could have sculpted, look at you." Dean runs his hands up those powerful thighs to the narrow hips and waist, then up as far as he can reach, fingertips teasing at hard nipples.

" _Dean_ ," Sam's expression is ecstatic as he rides Dean's cock, it's not just the pleasure, though the pleasure is incredible, it's the flush of _emotion_ running through him, the _joy_ of being with Dean as he's always, _always_ wanted, of hearing Dean say wonderful filthy things to him, _for_ him. He reaches down and grips his throbbing cock to keep it from going off immediately.

"That's it baby, grab that fatty... rub your thumb over the slit. I bet you're so sensitive right now... just ready to come, aren't you?" One hand slides down to grab Sam's balls, squeezing with just a little pressure.

Sam whimpers. "Filling me up so good Dean. I'll just... explode all over you." Riding a little harder, eyes gleaming, "So good in me. I want this all the time."

"You got it, anytime you want me, sexy." He's panting, Sam is so damn beautiful. "You ready to come?" re-bracing his feet and slamming up into him  at the next upward move of Sam's, meeting him halfway as he comes down.

Sam wants to say he isn't, because he wants this to go on forever. This _connected_ feeling. But his body is begging to come. "Yes! God Dean. Come in me, give it to me," and the very thought of Dean coming makes him spurt helplessly, shouting "Dean!" his hands on Dean's chest, staring down at his face.

Dean's fingers loosely wrap around the spurting head, feeling the hot mess ooze through his fingers as well as spatter on his abs. "Fuck yeah baby!" He slams his hips upward until his legs are so weak and trembling he can't anymore, feet sliding out on the bed. His free hand grabs at the back of Sam's head, twisting in his hair and forcing him down for a deep sloppy kiss.

Sam clings to him, clings to the moment as long as it will last, as long as Dean is inside him they are connected, truly connected. Sweaty and shaking and spattered with his own come, he's never felt so good in his whole life.

Dean kisses him until he softens, sleeping free of Sam's hot body, losing that wondrous connection. He groans with it, letting Sam's mouth go, his green eyes meeting his. "We got dirty again."

Sam blinks slowly, and then nods. They did, didn't they. He still feels good, that was amazing sex. But something is lost. It's like waking up from a dream that was rich in details and colors but as soon as you wake up... it slips away. There's only a sense of it left.

He's back in black and white again.

They fall asleep. That is, Dean falls asleep, and Sam pretends to. He hasn't needed to sleep since he came back from Hell.

Right now, he can think clearly, look at things coldly. This thing that happens between him and Dean, it's no better than the demon blood addiction. He's knowingly addicting himself to something he knows he should not have.

This time, he knows how to stop himself before it goes too far.

He moves silently, gathering himself up and slipping away before Dean can stir. He knows he has to leave a note. He writes what he knows it has to say.

'I was wrong. This is wrong. Don't look for me. S.'

Sam walks away. He leaves the (stolen) car he came in, steals a different one, and is almost a hundred miles away before Dean wakes up.

***

The room seems colder when Dean wakes, there's no 6'4" frame in the bed keeping him company. He stretches and yawns. Sam was always an early riser, and last time he'd stepped out for donuts and coffee. Sitting up, Dean looks around and immediately his senses tell him: this time it's different. Sam's bag is gone, and there's a V of a folded-over piece of paper sitting on the small table across from the bed, waiting for him. He tumbles out naked to snatch it up, hands shaking as he reads the brief missive.

His fist crumples the paper. "Son of a bitch!" Throwing it down, he grabs his cell phone and starts dialing, again and again and again as he jerks on his clothing. "Come on Sam, answer me, dammit all!"

Twenty tries later he hangs up, dials the cell phone company and waits. "Yeah, this is Thomas Brown, I need the GPS activated on the following account." He throws his things into the back seat of the Impala and pulls up to the front desk to check out, barely registering the clerk as he shoves a credit card at him, anger still burning tight in his gut. He promised Sam he wouldn't leave him and now Sam had left him!

Back in the Impala, he pulls out his laptop, puts in the phone number and pings the GPS. "Got ya!" He wasn't sure where Sam was headed, but at least he had his location at this moment. Pulling into the nearest gas station, he fills up, grabs coffee and a microwave breakfast burrito, and then he's barrelling down the nearest highway that will get him to Sam’s current GPS location. From there he'd ping again and intercept him, hopefully within a couple of hours.

Dean tries the phone number one more time, and this time he leaves a message.

"Sam... Sammy, I love you. Don't you do this to me."

 


End file.
